Series: Snapshots of the Past

Story: The London Years

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Previously: Abbey worried that Jed was hurt or in trouble

Summary: Flashback - a sick Elizabeth causes stress for Abbey

- - -

November 1968

Elizabeth sat at the kitchen table, her feet occasionally perched at the edge when her dangling legs sporadically took a break from kicking at the air. She squirmed in her seat, restless yet peculiarly subdued compared to her normal breakfast table shenanigans. She repeatedly banged her plastic sippy cup against the metal frame of her high-chair and enjoyed the rise she got out of Abbey with every crashing sound.

"Would you please get her to stop?" Abbey asked Jed, knowing he had special influence over Liz.

He put his fork down, turned to his daughter, and used the gentlest voice he could muster. "Lizzie, come on. Put the cup down and eat your breakfast."

Like most children, eight-month-old Elizabeth Ann Bartlet adored her father. Her face lit up when Jed walked into the room. She constantly wiggled her way out of her mother's arms if it meant her father would be available to hold her for a while. The attachment she had to Jed probably stemmed from his long hours at school and the minimal time he had to play with her.

When he spoke, her world stopped and the only thing that mattered were the sounds escaping from his lips, even though it was entirely likely she didn't understand them. Heeding her father's words regarding the cup, Liz set it down gently on her tray and picked up a small piece of the dry, bite-sized cereal Abbey had put in front of her. She nibbled on it, then threw the rest onto the floor.

"Aren't you hungry, Sweetheart?" Abbey asked her daughter.

She reached out her arms to pick her up, but Elizabeth pushed her hands away and kicked her feet with greater force. Abbey backed off and, instead, placed a few more pieces of cereal on her tray, prying the infant's fingers off her cup. Liz whimpered in response but Jed's gleeful stare managed to cut it short before it turned into a full-fledged whine.

As Abbey rinsed the cup in the sink, Jed pushed aside his breakfast plate. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him absent-mindedly lighting a cigarette. She reached for a pair of scissors before making her way back to the table. With one snip, she cut the cigarette to its filter, which was still nestled between his lips. The rest fell into the ashtray she held under his chin. The sight sparked laughter in Liz.

Jed looked down at the remainder of the filter sticking out of his mouth. Using his thumb and index finger, he pulled it out. "You said you weren't going to do that anymore."

"And you said you weren't going to fill our daughter's lungs with poison."

"Mommy's just cranky because we all have to get used to saying President Nixon now," he said to Elizabeth, who returned his smile with a girlish giggle. "It's not funny, Lizzie. The U.S. Presidency is a serious thing," he teased.

"Jed."

He turned to face Abbey. "You know Liz can never run for President. She wasn't born in the United States. Or maybe she can. I wonder if there's a loophole since she IS a U.S. citizen."

"The smoking, Jed..."

"Abbey, I forgot. I won't smoke until I leave for school, okay?"

"You shouldn't be smoking at all," she argued.

"Yeah, well, I can think of a lot of things I shouldn't be..."

His voice trailed off as he and Abbey both turned to Elizabeth who had just let out a little sneeze. Speechless, they stood still and stared at their daughter. Liz returned their gaze with a glimmer of baby confusion in her eyes.

"What was that?" Jed asked.

Abbey walked over to Liz, touching her hand to the baby's forehead. "She sneezed."

"I haven't heard her do that before. She does that?"

"Yes, Jed. Babies sneeze, just like the rest of us."

He was still confused. "Has she done it before?"

"Yes and it's sad that you don't know that."

Expecting a lecture about his long hours at school, Jed rolled his eyes. "So then what's the big deal?"

"What do we do?"

"Nothing. It was just a sneeze, right?"

"What if she's sick?" Abbey asked, standing behind Liz and feeling her forehead once more.

"Abbey, she's not sick. You said yourself, she's sneezed before."

"And every time she does, I wonder if she's sick."

"She's not," he replied as he stood up.

Abbey moved her hand so Jed could feel the baby's temperature. Satisfied, he leaned over to kiss Lizzie on the cheek then brushed the hair off Abbey's face and planted a kiss on her lips.

"When will you be home tonight?"

"Probably around six or seven."

"Don't spoil your appetite. I'll have dinner waiting."

Jed wrapped his arms around her and slipped his fingers into the knot on her apron. "Are you going to be wearing this tonight?"

"Jed, Liz is sitting right here."

"She has no idea what we're talking about. Do you, Angel?" he asked Liz with his head leaning forward over the top of hers.

Elizabeth pushed her head back, looked up at him, and responded to his question with another smile.

"She always smiles at you," Abbey said proudly.

"She's beautiful, isn't she? Just like her mom."

Jed tilted his head in Liz's direction and Abbey understood what he was asking. It was time for her to distract their daughter while Jed snuck out to leave for school. Unfortunately, in order to avoid a monster tantrum, this was a necessary part of the morning routine.

Abbey picked her up and carried her to her room, pulling out a few stuffed animals along the way. She sat Liz on the floor against a soft pillow and held her tiny hand until she was steady enough to sit up by herself.

Elizabeth usually enjoyed playing on the floor and as long as she was surrounded by her favorite toys, she was an independent child, able to entertain herself for hours. But on this morning, she was listless.

"Look, Lizzie, it's Mr. Patches," Abbey told her, holding up her favorite stuffed animal.

Liz pushed it out of the way and crawled to her mother's legs. Abbey helped her onto her up, immediately placing another cool hand to her forehead.

"What's the matter, Angel?"

Liz leaned back, strongly pressing her head into Abbey's body. Trying to convince herself that the baby was simply tired, Abbey picked her up and carried her to her crib. The second Liz's head touched the pillow, she began to cry out with tears immediately wetting her eyes.

Abbey picked her up back up and ran her hand over Liz's back to soothe her. "Oh, Lizzie, what's wrong?"

Elizabeth buried her head in Abbey's neck so deep that Abbey could feel the tears on her bare shoulders. She tried to hold her up, but Liz kept her head hanging forward, wanting to snuggle up to her mother.

Abbey's fears were now taking over. She reached for the phone, but when Liz's cries became louder, she ran back into the bedroom and dressed the baby in a warm coat and hat, grabbed her own coat on the way out, and headed to the doctor's office.

The rest of the day was spent caring for a temperamental Elizabeth who, despite Abbey's best efforts, was inconsolable. By the time Jed returned home that night, Abbey was exhausted.

"Where have you been?" she asked coolly as he walked through the door.

Jed glanced down at his watch to make sure he wasn't late. "It's 6:45. I said around six or seven."

"I have been trying to reach you all day! No one at that damn school ever answers the phone!"

"What's the matter?" This wasn't like Abbey. He knew something was wrong.

"Your daughter and I spent most of the morning at the doctor's office."

"Lizzie? What's wrong with Lizzie?"

Jed began to head for the nursery, but Abbey grabbed his arm. "Don't go in there. She's finally asleep."

"Abbey?"

"It's just a mild cold. But she scared the hell out of me and you weren"t here!"

He let out a deep breath, relieved that Abbey had things under control. "Thank God."

"I told you she was sick. You told me she wasn't." Her voice had a resentful twinge to it, the result of her hectic day alone with a sick baby.

He looked at his wife, noting the drawn and tired features that dominated her usually-radiant face. "I'm sorry," he said simply.

Abbey knew she was being unreasonable and his apology cemented it. Regretting her words, she retracted. "No. I shouldn't have...it's not your fault. It's just that I tried so hard to reach you."

"I'll call from now on, on the hour if you want me to."

"It doesn't have to be on the hour, but I wouldn't mind hearing from you during the day...you know, in case something should happen with the baby."

"You're right," he conceded.

"I'm sorry I pounced on you the second you got home."

He opened his arms to welcome an embrace, giving her a kiss when she brushed by his lips as she swung her hands around his neck.

- - -

It was that day that Abbey first realized the growing frustration of raising her daughter with little help from Jed. She respected the fact that he was working hard, but as a new mother, she spent her days teaching herself the art of caring for another human being and she longed for a supportive partner who could be there to occasionally reassure her.

Perhaps it was because they were still newlyweds and desperate to avoid conflicts that she didn't tell him what she was feeling. Back then, arguments were easily resolved and soon forgotten. But as Jed's workload grew, keeping him away from home, so did Abbey's desire to have him by her side. It was just one of many battles in the resulting war that had led to their emotional detachment.

What began as one goal they shared together soon became an obstacle that sparked hurt feelings that were usually swept under the rug, only to be uncovered by a major eruption that was sure to eventually follow.

Upon reflection, she wondered if she had told him - if she had been open and honest from the start, about everything - if they would have wandered so far off course.

TBC